Saturday, October 22, 2016

Royally Screwed (Royally #1) by Emma Chase: Blog Tour Excerpt

Blurb:
 
Nicholas Arthur Frederick Edward Pembrook, Crowned Prince of Wessco, aka “His Royal Hotness,” is wickedly charming, devastatingly handsome, and unabashedly arrogant―hard not to be when people are constantly bowing down to you.
Then, one snowy night in Manhattan, the prince meets a dark haired beauty who doesn’t bow down. Instead, she throws a pie in his face.
Nicholas wants to find out if she tastes as good as her pie, and this heir apparent is used to getting what he wants.

Dating a prince isn’t what waitress Olivia Hammond ever imagined it would be.
There’s a disapproving queen, a wildly inappropriate spare heir, relentless paparazzi, and brutal public scrutiny. While they’ve traded in horse drawn carriages for Rolls Royces and haven’t chopped anyone’s head off lately―the royals are far from accepting of this commoner.
But to Olivia―Nicholas is worth it.

Nicholas grew up with the whole world watching, and now Marriage Watch is in full force. In the end, Nicholas has to decide who he is and, more importantly, who he wants to be: a King... or the man who gets to love Olivia forever.


Click to Buy The Royally Series on Amazon:

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About the Author:

By day, Emma Chase is a devoted wife and mother of two who resides in a small, rural town in New Jersey. By night she is a keyboard crusader, toiling away the hours to bring her colorful characters and their endless antics to life. She has a long standing love/hate relationship with caffeine.

Emma is an avid reader. Before her children were born she was known to consume whole books in a single day. Writing has also always been a passion and with the 2013 release of her debut romantic comedy, Tangled, the ability to now call herself an author is nothing less than a dream come true.

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Excerpt:

She’s even lovelier than I remembered, than I dreamed. Delicate midnight tendrils frame a face that belongs in a museum—with stunning dark sapphire eyes that should be commemorated in vibrant oils and soft watercolors. If Helen launched a thousand ships, this girl could raise a thousand hard-ons.

She’s prettily made, the top of her head coming only to my chin, but fantastically curvy. Great full tits that strain the buttons of a wrinkled white blouse, shapely hips in a black skirt tapering to a tiny waist I could wrap my hands around and toned legs encased in sheer black tights finish off the whole package very nicely.

An unfamiliar anxiousness fizzes like soda in my gut.

“The door was open,” I explain.

“It’s broken.”

Logan flicks at the lock. Security is his life, so a broken lock would annoy him like a puzzle with the final piece missing.

“What do you want?”

She has no idea who I am. It’s in the defensive way she holds herself and the accusatory note in her voice. Some women try to pretend they don’t recognize me, but I can always tell. Her ignorance is rather…thrilling. There are no expectations, no hidden agendas, no reasons to pretend—what she sees is what she gets. And all she sees is me.

My throat is suddenly a barren wasteland. I swallow, but it’s difficult.

“Well, he’s desperate for some pie.” I hook my thumb at Simon. “And I…wanted to apologize for the other evening. I don’t normally act that way. I was on a bit of bender…”

“In my experience, people don’t do things when they’re drunk that they wouldn’t do normally.”

“No, you’re right. I would’ve thought all those things, but I never would’ve said them out loud.” I move closer, slowly. “And if I’d been sober…my opening bid would’ve been much higher.”

“She crosses her arms. “Are you trying to be cute?”

“No. I don’t have to try…it just sort of happens.”

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